


Whither Thou Goest

by die_traumerei



Series: Figurative [7]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: It did not start out as the ideal weekend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this and then Bucky proposed and I had no idea what to do. I added to it bit by bit over time, but I think it's truly done now -- enjoy!
> 
> (If you are new to this series/particular universe, most likely exactly zero of this will make sense. It's pretty bad as a standalone fic, sorry!)

“Hey Bucky, it's me,” Steve called out softly as he let himself into their apartment, just in case Bucky was asleep.

“Hey,” came the muffled reply from the bedroom, and Steve forced himself to not run down the short corridor, because really now.

“Hi sweetie,” he said, letting himself in. “I brought dinner home with me.”

“No wonder you're a superhero,” Bucky said, turning over and smiling at Steve, just barely visible in the dim room. “Ow, close the door please?”

“Shit, sorry.” Steve let himself in and closed the door behind him, returning the room to twilight. “Okay to touch?”

“Not really, but I want a hug,” Bucky said, and pushed himself up.

Steve folded him close, as gingerly as he could, and closed his arms around Bucky slowly, giving him plenty of time to change his mind.

“Thanks,” Bucky whispered, and Steve brushed his lips over the side of Bucky's head. His long hair was neatly braided back, showing off the shorn sides of his head; the side Steve kissed was unscarred.

“I got you,” Steve murmured, and helped Bucky lie back down, tucked in among heating pads and pillows. “Put your legs up, love, that always helps.”

Bucky nodded, and let Steve take care of it, slipping extra pillows under Bucky's long legs, his touches quick and careful. “Okay?”

Bucky sighed and relaxed. “Thanks. Sorry 'm kinda useless.”

“Yeah, you suck, Steve said, and leaned over to kiss Bucky, lightening-fast. “What else can I do?” he asked, voice low, almost whispering.

“Not much,” Bucky said with a weak smile. “'less you got a time machine.”

“Sorry baby. Not even Thor can manage that.” Steve had asked already, after he'd seen pictures of Bucky right after the accident when he was still in a coma, still on the edge of death. Steve tried not to think of those pictures if he could help it.

Bucky nodded and closed his eyes. “Migraine coming back,” he said shortly.

“I'll check on you in an hour,” Steve whispered. Bucky couldn't stand to be touched when it was this bad and, although it hurt like hell, the best thing Steve could do was let him be, let him ride it out alone. He'd make up for it, and more, later.

He let himself out and busied himself around the apartment otherwise, just tidying up a little, putting the Chinese takeout in the fridge in case Bucky got hungry later. He did a sinkful of dishes and wiped down the counters, cleaned the coffeemaker and was halfway through deep-cleaning the living room when the alarm he'd set for himself went off.

This time, he had the sense to turn off the hall light before letting himself into their bedroom and kneeling by the bed. “Check-in time,” he whispered.

“I hate my life,” Bucky said, and sniffled.

“Oh, baby.” Steve touched his hair, and with no further response, started to stroke his head, hair smooth and soft under his hand. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through this.”

Bucky sniffled again, and Steve touched his face and felt the wetness from tears. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...you shouldn't have to deal with this.”

“Honey, I hate to tell you, but I _definitely_ win the who-puts-up-with-less-shit competition,” Steve murmured. 

Bucky made a sound like a laugh, and groaned, hand coming up to his forehead. “Fuck, fuck, ow.”

“Shh, ride it out,” Steve all but breathed, and stayed kneeling by the bed until Bucky's breathing evened out.

“You awake?” he whispered, and got no answer.

“Oh, love.” He kissed Bucky's forehead, and used all his willpower to keep himself from picking Bucky up, wrapping around him, telling him how wonderful he was and how loved, and how Steve would do anything for him. He settled for checking Bucky's legs and hips and making sure the heating pad wouldn't burn him and pushing a glass of water and his migraine pills to further within reach and not bodily picking him up and taking him to Tony, to Thor, to _anyone_ who could promise to take all of Bucky's pain away, make it so he wouldn't ever have to hide out in a dark room.

He blew Bucky a kiss from the doorway, and shut it softly behind himself. Steve would eat, and hang out, read quietly in the living room, and rely on his enhanced hearing to pick up even the slightest sound from the bedroom.

The rest of the night was quiet, though, and Steve fell asleep on the sofa, curled up under an extra blanket.

He slept deeply, and late, and woke up suddenly. And felt like sort of the worst superhero in existence when he realized he'd slept through Bucky waking up, walking through the living room, and making coffee in the kitchen.

Steve all but ran into the kitchen, and was very, very pleased to suddenly have an armful of Bucky. “Hey you,” he said, and kissed his boyfriend good morning. “Feeling better?”

“Mmm. Migraine's gone.” That meant his bones still ached, since he hadn't mentioned that, and he always had a lingering headache, but Steve would take it. 

“Good.” Steve hugged him again, and kissed his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I'm sorry about last night.”

“Honey, you know you never have to apologize for that,” Steve argued, and Bucky held a hand to his mouth.

“Not that,” he said, and flushed. “When I said I hated my life. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.”

“You really didn't hate your life in that moment?” Steve asked, curious.

“Not...entirely?”

“Bucky, exactly how many times have you told me that it's okay to be sad? Like, to the nearest hundred?”

“Oh, go to hell, Rogers.”

Steve laughed, and helped Bucky limp to the kitchen table, leaning down to kiss him again. “Suck it up, baby.” He touched Bucky's cheek. “I understand, remember?”

Bucky smiled a little at him. “Can I have my coffee, please?”

Steve made it exactly as he liked it, and settled down to a mug of his own, the two of them waking up in the sunny little kitchen. He made them both toast – easy and gentle on Bucky's empty stomach – and gently sent him back to bed, promising he'd come cuddle soon.

And he did, crawling in beside Bucky and snuggling close, one hand rubbing Bucky's thigh. His legs had been badly broken, and Steve had kissed the scars that crisscrossed them a hundred times at least.

Bucky smiled and rested his head on Steve's shoulder. “I'm so tired of hurting,” he said softly.

“I don't know what to say,” Steve admitted. “Or do. I love you, Buck. I want to take care of you.”

“Just stay with me?” Bucky asked quietly. “Not if you have something important to do. But...stay?”

“I got nothing more important than you,” Steve said, and slipped his hand under Bucky's shirt to trace the scar on his side that was Steve's. “Seriously. The Avengers know I'm off-limits this weekend.” He smiled, and kissed Bucky's cheek. “They all send their love. Especially Nat.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky said cheerfully. “And c'mon, if aliens invade or whatever, I'm not gonna die on my own.”

“No,” Steve said. “You're not gonna be on your own. Off-limits means off-limits.”

“What?” Bucky sat up, looking scandalized. “Steve, _no_.”

“God, you're dramatic. Nothing's gonna happen, for one,” Steve said, pulling him back down into his arms. “No, lie like this – there, better for your hips, right?” He kissed Bucky quickly. “For two, Clint does this like all the time. People we love have to come first sometimes. I love you.”

“ _Seriously_?”

“Seriously. If the world ends this weekend, it's gonna end with you and me here, together.”

Bucky took a deep breath. “Steve...”

“This isn't something you can argue me out of.”

“I wasn't,” Bucky said softly. “I was going to ask you to marry me.”

“What?” Steve asked dumbly, sitting up. Had he. Bucky had definitely said those words. In that order.

“I _was_. This weekend. Then...yeah.” He huffed. “Everything went shitty. I wanted to take you out and make you laugh and love on you, but you're still here so here's my awful, shitty, terrible proposal.”  Bucky sighed and looked Steve in eye, pefectly still and steady. “Will you marry me, Steve?”

“Oh my God,” Steve said, his voice suddenly weak. “Oh my God, _yes.”_

“Oh. Good.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing, hugging tightly while Steve dotted Bucky's face with kisses.

“Holy shit, I love you so much,” Bucky managed, and squeezed Steve so tight it actually hurt.

“Love you too.” Steve held him close, gentle but strong enough that Bucky would feel it. 

“Are we dramatic enough?”

Steve laughed out loud, and kissed him, long and loving. “Nah, not really.” He cupped Bucky's jaw in one hand, and kissed him again. “I love you. I can't wait to marry you.”

“Me either.” Bucky's smile was brilliant, and he giggled. “I just...Steve. You're mine, now.”

“Body and soul.” Steve kissed his cheek, and blew a raspberry into it. “I'm gonna make you so happy, for the rest of our lives.”

“I know,” Bucky said contentedly. He snuggled deeper into Steve's arms, and sighed, relaxing. “As soon as I can, I'm still takin' you out.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Steve rubbed his thigh softly. “I can wait.”

“I know, love.” Bucky gave him a sleepy smile. “Gonna make it worth it, too.”

“Honey.” Steve paused and swallowed hard. “You just asked me to marry you. Worth it is...it doesn't mean anything. We're gonna be...fuck.”

“Oh, Steve. Don't cry,” Bucky soothed, his hand rubbing Steve's back. “Oh, all right, go ahead and cry. Happy tears?”

Steve nodded hard.

“Good.” Bucky yawned, and settled down, Steve's head on his shoulder. “Don't mind me, I just need a post-proposal nap. You know, an hour after I woke up.”

Steve giggled, and kissed Bucky's chest, dotted little kisses along his collarbone, and finished at his mouth. “You've earned it. Drift off whenever you want, Buck. I'll be right here.”

“Don't _want_ to sleep,” Bucky whined, even as Steve tucked him in a little more securely. “Wanna stay up and hang out with my fianc é.”

“Your fiancé ain't goin' anywhere,” Steve informed him, and rolled over to rest his not-inconsiderable weight on Bucky. “See?”

“Ooof. Get off, I can't take a deep breath. Seriously, did the serum cause your muscles to turn into lead?” Bucky bitched, giving Steve a healthy shove.

“Nothin' wrong with your arm, then,” Steve teased, settling down again so he was curled around Bucky without squashing him.

“I really don't want to sleep,” Bucky said, around a huge yawn.

“Tough.” Steve cupped his hand around the end of Bucky's left arm. “We can hang out plenty for the rest of our lives.”

“You're so gross,” Bucky mumbled, and was asleep within the next breath.

Steve had cleverly stationed himself so he could feel Bucky's heartbeat, smiling as it slowed down while Bucky fell more deeply asleep. He'd feel so much better when he woke up; maybe they'd even make it out to dinner. Or order in, so they could sprawl on the sofa, and cuddle and kiss as much as they liked. Yeah, that sounded good.

 

“Are you sure you want to marry me?”

This was...not what Steve had been expecting. Bucky had slept for hours; long enough that Steve grew both bored and hungry, and he slipped out of bed, tucking a pillow into Bucky's arms so he had something to cuddle, and went to get lunch and a book. And promptly got a little distracted by his e-mail. And the rest of the internet.

“What? Are you feeling okay, Bucky?” Steve looked up from his laptop, seriously worried. Was this Bucky's brain damage manifesting in some new way? “C'mere. Of course I want to marry you.” He set the laptop aside and held his arms out. “Oh my God, that's all I want to do, love.” He had definitely not started looking for places to have a tiny, intimate wedding. Nor had he begun a spreadsheet to start tracking everything.

Bucky shook his head and sat at the end of the sofa, hugging his knees to his chest. “No, think about this, Steve, for real.”

“Why on earth would I not want to marry you?” Steve swallowed hard. “Are you having second thoughts, baby? Because we can...” 

Okay, he had no idea what to do in that case. Other than actually feel his heart break.

“No! No, _I'm_ not having second thoughts. But you should.”

“ _Why_?” Steve asked, genuinely confused. “I love you. I said _yes_.”

Bucky rubbed at his eyes. “I'm just some guy. I'm not even in as good shape as an ordinary human being and you're  _Captain America_ . You're literally physically perfect, and I'm  _nothing_ .”

Steve sucked in a sharp breath. “Bucky, how can you say that?”

“Because I couldn't even propose to you properly! I'm broken and my brain is awful and you're going to have to deal with that every day for the rest of my life.” He sniffled. “It might get a little bit better. It might get _worse_ , and then where will you be? You should at least have someone who...who works right.”

“But I want you,” Steve said helplessly. “I don't want anyone else. I won't, ever again.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don't know if I'm worth this, Steve.”

“I think you are,” Steve said carefully, turning so he was facing Bucky. “I think you're worth anything.”

Bucky wiped his eyes again. “You're gonna outlive me, love. Probably by a lot. You okay with that?”

“You might outlive me,” Steve said softly. “I'm not immortal. _You_ okay with _that_?”

Bucky nodded silently, crying harder. “How can you want me? After this weekend, after I forget everything unless you write it down for me. I can't even have  _sex_ with you. Steve, seriously, I am a bad bet. I'm  _not worth it_ .”

“Your brain really is scrambled, if you think that,” Steve said, because it was the first thing that came to mind.

Bucky shook his head, still crying. “You can do so much better than me, you just don't realize it yet.”

“Oh, get _off_ , Bucky,” Steve told him briskly. This, at least, he could argue. “I've partied with Tony Stark. I've met the most beautiful people in the world, the best athletes, the smartest people.” He held his hand out, and rested it on Bucky's foot when he didn't respond. “I'd been out of the ice for _years_ when I met you. I've seen a lot, and done a lot. I know exactly what I'm getting with you, and I want to marry _you_.”

“How can you want me?” Bucky asked, and Steve squeezed his foot.

“Because you're you. You're my _Bucky_. You make fun of me and you pose for me, and I love you. Because...I don't know! There are too many reasons.” Steve smiled sadly. “Bucky, if you were...if you were like me. If you were superhuman too, or if you had six doctorates and three Nobel prizes, or if you were physically perfect and strong beyond even the best athletes and one of the most attractive people in the world – which you are, incidentally – that wouldn't have anything to do with me loving you. Because your body and your mind and everything that's you is part of the package, but none of that's as important as who you _are_.”

Bucky sniffled, and crawled into Steve's arms. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Shhh. Hush,” Steve soothed, stroking his hair. “You're just having a bad day, love. A bad few days. You know I love you. And you know you're pretty great.”

Bucky smiled, and even gave a wet giggle at Steve's words.

“Really great, actually.” Steve smiled and kissed him. “Hey, that's what you're getting with me. Depression. A man out of time. And not knowing if I'm coming back to you in one piece. You're gonna have a lot of fear, and you're gonna have me dealing with some pretty impressive mental health issues. You'll have to share me with the Avengers, with the _world_ , at least a little bit.” He held Bucky a little closer. “You're not always going to get such a great deal, love.”

“Don't care. Want you.”

Steve giggled, and gave Bucky a little pinch. “Well, then. We're even.”

“We are not. I'm sorry, Steve. I'm all mixed-up inside.”

“I know, baby. You've had a rough weekend,” Steve soothed, pressing a kiss to Bucky's short, soft hair.

“Fuck you, I got engaged, I had an awesome weekend.”

Steve laughed out loud, and hugged Bucky as tightly as he dared. “I love you. You hungry? I made soup.”

Bucky pushed himself up so he could look at Steve through narrowed eyes. “Depression-era soup? Or out of a can soup?”

“Out of a _can_ , you picky asshole. Jesus.”

Bucky giggled, and curled back up in Steve's arms. “Yes, please. In a minute. Kinda need this right now.”

“Got it. Love you, Bucky. I _want_ to be your husband, don't ever forget that.”

“I'll try.” Bucky smiled and closed his eyes. “I wanna remember this day forever.”

“I'll help you,” Steve said softly. “I'll tell you, all the time. Once upon a time, there was a very sad, confused solider, who was lost in a new time. And then, one day, a beautiful prince got drunk and fell over in front of the soldier and also locked himself out of his castle, and was so charming the soldier took him home – ow!”

Bucky giggled and pinched Steve again. “Stop that. No fairytales. Two years ago there was you, and there was me, and we met and fell in love. I asked you to marry me today, and twenty years from now there'll still be you, and there'll be me, and we'll still be in love.”

“I like that better,” Steve agreed, and they kissed until Bucky's stomach began to growl.

 

Steve poised the cursor over the Send button.

“Wimp.”

“I'm waiting for aliens to attack,” Steve informed him.

“What, so you don't have to tell the entire team we got engaged two days ago and aren't telling them until now?” Bucky asked, entirely too amused.

“It would be less terrifying.”

“ _Wimp_.”

“I'll wimp you,” Steve threatened idly. “Seriously. I am actually afraid of how Tony will react. You know he's not good with emotion.”

“Neither are any of you,” Bucky said. “I wonder if Thor'll bring that Asgardian stuff that gets you drunk?”

“I wonder if Sam will show up and ask if we've lost our minds.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky took the laptop from Steve and set it aside. “C'mere. Steve, we're the only people wondering that, I promise.” He kissed Steve softly. “You're so good for me, and God help you, I think I'm good for you. Everyone'll be happy for us.”

Steve rested his head on Bucky's left shoulder, and smiled at the little wriggle of the abbreviated limb. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. C'mon. I'll send it for you,” Bucky said, and pulled the laptop a little closer, firmly hitting the send button. “There, done.”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“There isn't going to be an actual explosion, I don't know why we're such dweebs about this,” Bucky said casually, just as both their phones went off.

“Nat,” Bucky reported after fishing his out.

“Bruce,” Steve sighed in relief.

“Hi honey,” Bucky answered, and started laughing when Nat immediately began wailing at him about how she'd been saving herself for him and didn't he love her and true love was dead and gone and how dare he not marry her after their great unspoken love story.

“Thanks, Bruce,” Steve was saying, because he got _normal_ people calling him. “We're pretty happy for us too.”

“I gave you my _youth_ ,” Natasha wept.

“Are you quoting _The Cherry Orchard_ at me?” Bucky asked, deeply bemused, while Steve gave him a confused look and mouthed _what?,_ _as_ Bruce had hung up. Probably something was on fire, probably courtesy Tony having an emotion. “Hang on, love of my life, I'm putting you on speaker.”

“Steve, I will _kill you for this_ ,” Nat shrieked. “He's my Bucky and how dare you split up our undying love for one another.”

“Thanks Nat. We're pretty happy for us too,” Steve repeated blandly.

“I shall wear widow's weeds to the... _event_.”

Bucky was practically on the floor he was laughing so hard.

“Neener,” Steve said.

“How dare you mock my pain,” Nat said.

“I can't breathe,” Bucky gasped, his face bright red with laughter.

“I win,” Steve said gleefully.

“I will never love again,” Nat vowed. “Please put on my gravestone that I died of a broken heart.”

“Noted,” Steve said. “Bucky, stop encouraging her.”

“I'll love you forever,” Bucky shrieked from the floor, where he was still trying to catch his breath.

“I'll love you too!” Nat shrieked back.

“So...are you gonna expire before next October?” Steve asked. “Just 'cause I wanna know if we've gotta reserve a place for you at one of the tables.”

“I see you mocking my pain, and I am ignoring it. I shall live to see you wed, then pass from this vale of tears,” Nat said.

“Guys, I think I broke a rib,” Bucky said weakly from his spot on the floor.

“Drama queen,” Steve and Nat said in chorus, and Nat finally broke down and laughed.

“I'm so happy for both of you. I love you. Will we ever see you again or are you just permanently cuddling on your sofa now?”

“Well, right now Bucky's lying on the floor, so no?” Steve grinned and leaned over to poke Bucky in the stomach. “You wanna come over for a drink, Nat?”

“I'll be there as soon as I can,” she promised. “I make a great best man, by the way.”

“Dibs,” Bucky said quickly, and Steve gave him a dirty look. “What? You can have Sam.”

“See you boys soon,” Nat said, and hung up.

The moment his phone's screen went blank, it lit up again, with a call from Sita.

Bucky yelped with joy and lunged for it. “Hi honey, you're on speaker!”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Sita yelled. “How _dare you_ wait until I'm on the other side of the _country_ to get engaged! Steve, I object. You're gonna need a do-over. I'm home next week.”

It was Steve's turn to almost fall off of the  sofa , he was laughing so hard. “I'm sorry! I didn't have any say in it!”

“You are my favorite,” she said primly. “Bucky, excuse?”

“None, ma'am,” he said quickly. “But what if I offered you a role as combo flower girl/ring-bearer?”

“Can I wear a completely extra white poufy dress?” she asked.

“I would be very upset if you didn't,” Bucky assured her.

“Someone's got to, and neither Bucky nor I have the build for it,” Steve pointed out.

Sita laughed, rich and beautiful. “Maybe. I'm actually not  _that_ tacky.”

“You should be,” Bucky said, and snuggled against Steve. “I'm serious, Sita-love. Please be a part of our wedding? A big part?”

“Honey, you know the answer is yes,” Sita said warmly. “Oh my God, Bucky. I'm so, so happy for you – for Steve, too. For both of you. You're perfect together, and mazel tov, and may you have an eternity of joy together and any other blessing I can think of.”

Steve laughed softly, and pressed a long kiss into Bucky's hair. “Thanks. I'm...really happy too,” he said, words not really covering how he was feeling.

“I'm not kidding about the do-over. I wanna see a full reenactment when I get home,” she threatened.

Bucky laughed. “I'll include my skanky sweatpants, just for you. For authenticity.”

“Oh honey. Bad weekend?”

“Pretty bad,” Bucky admitted. “It was not exactly romantic.”

“It was perfect,” Steve said hotly. “It was genuine, and you meant it, and I love you. I love that you asked even when you felt crap and were tired and upset. Us in our bed is so much...more, than some restaurant somewhere.”

“I was gonna ask you on the Brooklyn Bridge,” Bucky said.

Steve paused.

“Re-enactment except you follow the original plan while I gawk at you guys?” Sita asked hopefully.

“I mean...” Steve said.

Bucky sighed loudly.

They chatted a little bit more with Sita, and Steve talked her into letting them pick her up from the airport when she got in, and they both blew her kisses and hung up.

Both of their phones were pretty well lit up with text messages, but the next call came from Sam.

“Hey, you're on speaker,” Steve greeted him. Bucky had recovered enough to join him on the sofa.

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Steve and Bucky chorused. 

“We're pretty happy about it all,” Steve added, pulling Bucky a little closer. Literally everyone had been thrilled for them.

“It's _awesome_ news,” Sam agreed. “So? Who asked who?”

“I asked him,” Bucky said, and giggled. “Sam, it was so severely unromantic it's ridiculous. I'd had a bad pain weekend and I was in my pajamas and in our kind of skanky bed and just...yeah. He said yes."

“Well, yeah, of _course_ ,” Steve told him, and kissed his cheek.

“What he said,” Sam supplied. “Bucky, it sounds perfect. How you doing, though?”

“A lot better,” Bucky promised, snuggling into Steve's side. “That weird low-pressure front passed and I'm a few days out from the migraine, so I'm doing fine.”

“Good, I'm glad,” Sam said. “So, when do I get you guys taking over my guest room?”

“Oh! Yeah! I'm working with an artist in Silver Springs in, uh, two weeks – mind if I crash with you, Sam? I'll bring Steve if he's not busy.”

“Honey, of course, you're welcome anytime,” Sam said warmly. “And yeah, I guess if you gotta bring the fiancé...”

Bucky giggled. “Uh huh. I'll send you the dates we'll definitely be down?”

“Awesome. Oh, hey, you guys know when you're getting hitched?”

“We're thinking next October,” Steve said. “It gives us over a year to plan, although it'll probably be pretty small. And, uh.” He smiled shyly. “It'll be right around the time we first met.”

“Awwww,” Sam cooed. “Gross, you guys.”

Bucky poked Steve in the side.

“Oh! Yeah! Uh, Sam, will you be my best man?” Steve asked.

“Obviously. I got you, man. Seriously, I've had three sisters get married, I am a fount of information.”

“Thank God,” Steve said fervently.

“Steve has discovered the wedding industrial complex,” Bucky explained. 

“Oh shit.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said, and rubbed Steve's back. “He's not allowed on Pinterest.”

“Oh _God_ no,” Sam breathed. “No no no no no. I will not let you do that to yourself, Rogers.”

“You're both ridiculous,” Steve complained.

They talked with Sam a little bit longer, and he wished them both well again, and they had just enough time before Nat was ringing their doorbell to wrap around each other on the sofa and neck for a few minutes.

“Ready for your girlfriend?” Steve whispered into Bucky's mouth.

“ _No_ ,” Bucky hissed back, suddenly looking afraid.

“Now who's a wimp,” Steve muttered, getting up to buzz Nat in and unlocking the door.

Bucky was in the process of trying to hide behind the sofa when Natasha stalked in, dressed in a slinky head-to-toe black dress and honest-to-god black veil, and holding a bouquet of headless roses. Which she thrust at Steve. “These are for you.”

“Bucky, I changed my mind, I'm in love with Nat.” Steve said, looking genuinely starry-eyed.

“I'm not Bucky, I'm his twin, um, cousin. Boris. Who you have never met.”

Nat sighed. “You are both not remotely as funny as you think you are.”

“Natasha, you bought a bouquet of roses and _hacked the heads off_ to continue a running joke,” Steve pointed out.

“ _I_ am funny,” she informed him, and grinned, and threw herself into his arms. “I'm so happy for you two!”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured, hugging her back.

Natasha kissed his cheek and slipped out of his arms to go hug Bucky, pressing kisses to each cheek. “Oh, honey.”

Bucky just laughed and hugged her back. “Nat, Steve and I are getting married.”

“Uh huh.” She kissed him square on the mouth and politely ignored how his eyes crossed. “I love you both. I can't wait. I'm going to get drunk and dance on the table and make a long embarrassing toast.”

Bucky smiled fondly at her, and tucked her into his left side, able to put his arm at least partway around her back. “You'll be my best man? Honestly?”

“Honestly,” she promised, slipping her arm around his waist. “I wouldn't miss it for anything. Now let me get my things from out in the hall – I brought vodka, and flowers for real.”

“Oh, Nat.”

“Hey. I gotta celebrate with my best guys,” she said, and laughed when Bucky didn't let her go for a moment, letting him hug her. “Vodka before emotions, please.”

Bucky ruffled her hair and finally let her go, cooing over the huge bouquet of wildflowers she had picked up. “Nat, they're beautiful. Honey, thank you.”

“You're very welcome. Steve can put them in water while we pour shots out.”

“It's three in the afternoon,” Steve pointed out.

“We got engaged, we can do a shot with my best man,” Bucky pointed out, following Nat into the kitchen. “Shot glasses are...oh, you know where they are,” he said, as she pulled them out of the cupboard and they all sat around the table, the wildflowers quickly set in a vase at one end.

Nat poured out two, and hesitated. “Bucky? What're you in for?”

“It's been twenty-four hours since I needed the serious meds,” Bucky mused aloud. “Let's risk a full shot. That'll be the only one though.”

Nat poured the third glass, and they toasted each other silently, then downed the strong liquor.

Steve made a face, but at least he'd stopped gagging at the taste of vodka.

Bucky's eyes crossed, but only for a moment.

Nat poured another round for herself and Steve.

Bucky sighed and watched them down it. “I genuinely don't know if I'm jealous or relieved I can't drink.”

Steve made another face. “Be relieved.”

“Oh, calm your tits,” Nat told him, and Bucky suddenly found this _hilarious_.

 

Nat lingered through dinner, but then had to leave, despite Steve earnestly inviting her to stay as long as she wanted.

“I have things to do, and you two haven't sucked face in like five hours,” she pointed out, and kissed them both goodbye. “The tension is killing me.”

“Love you too,” Bucky said, and hugged her. “Thank you for the flowers, and the vodka.”

“I'll see you at the team meeting tomorrow,” Steve promised, taking his turn to hug her goodbye. “Be well, Natalia.”

She patted his cheek and took her leave.

Steve reached for Bucky as the door closed behind her, and pulled him close. “You okay? You're quiet.”

“Just tired. Nat's a bad influence,” Bucky said, and smiled when this got him a kiss. “I do not regret my vodka, though.”

“I forgot how quick you get drunk,” Steve teased, and hoisted Bucky up in a bridal carry. “Bed for you, love.”

“All I do is sleep,” Bucky complained, but he wrapped his arm around Steve's neck and rested his head on his shoulder.

Steve just smiled, and kissed the top of his head, and carried him into the bedroom, helping him settle in the bed. Bucky  _had_ been sleeping a lot, but he was all the better for it, in Steve's opinion; he didn't limp when he woke up and he checked his calendar less often.

(And he helped Steve sleep too. Reading quietly in bed beside a lightly-snoring Bucky settled him, and if he woke up in the night, knowing that Bucky was dreaming away right beside him was soothing. There was nothing to fear, here, and he could drift back off beside the warm lump of trust and love given human form beside him.)

They got into pajamas and snuggled down together to watch a movie on Steve's laptop, both of them barely making it to the end before falling deeply asleep, bodies curled around each other in the safe, sweet darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I loathe writing weddings, so here's the basics:
> 
> Their wedding is in October, at Tony's place in the woods. Decor is surprisingly restrained.
> 
> Sita wears a very nice sari; Nat and Sam wear suits. Steve wears a very formal suit and Bucky rocks up in flannel pants and his shirtsleeves rolled up, because it's his wedding. Also he looks amazing.
> 
> Steve says the traditional Catholic vows; Bucky wrote his own vows. Everybody cries.
> 
> Steve cries the entire time actually.
> 
> Bucky does not cry until Steve puts the ring on his right hand and gives his stump a little squeeze of apology, and then it's just fuckin' waterworks for days, kids.
> 
> Bucky dances with every single guest, including three WWII vets Steve is friends with. One of them is gay; the other two are very good sports. All three enjoy themselves immensely.
> 
> The next day they leave for a week in a quiet house in the Nevada desert, and have a blissfully happy honeymoon, even if Steve has to politely kicky Bucky out of the bedroom at least once a day so he can get himself off. Mostly they kiss an inordinate amount, cook together, and watch the landscape, both of them utterly fascinated.


End file.
